Endless Winter: My Camp Upgrades Infinitely Chapter 1203 - 405: Taking the Fall, the Battle for First, If You Can’t Win Then Play Dirty, Frustration_3

Suddenly, the Dragon Sparrow Saber pulled in the nearby air, manifesting a silvery frosty blade exceeding a hundred meters in the heavens, arriving before Yang Zhun in mere moments.

As the instigator of this duel, Xia Hong had no intention of holding back. His ferocious saber strike surged straight up toward Yang Zhun's figure.

Yet, harming Yang Zhun proved far from easy!

The advantage of weapon reach in battle is undeniably crucial.

Greater length equates to greater power; this axiom holds true beyond mere words.

Xia Hong's Dragon Sparrow, a type of Yi Blade, measures 1.7 meters overall, with a 20-centimeter handle and a 1.5-meter blade. Among the Four Types of Xia Blades, it ranks as the longest, and apart from Cold Blood, it's the weapon he's wielded most frequently over the years.

At 1.7 meters, the Yi Blade surpasses the length of most arms, yet it falls short when pitted against Yang Zhun's silver spear, which spans roughly ten feet.

Thus, Yang Zhun refrained from any grand maneuvers; with a single-handed sweep of his spear, he effortlessly parried Xia Hong's incoming silver saber glow.

Bang...

"Thirteen jin!"

"Eleven jin!"

In their first exchange, both warriors furrowed their brows slightly, immediately gauging each other's foundational power within.

As the force revealed, Xia Hong failed to budge Yang Zhun; instead, his own frame recoiled several meters backward.

"Brother Xia, if that's your full extent, I'm afraid this will prove underwhelming!"

This remark urged him to cease dawdling and unleash his genuine abilities.

"Very well!"

Xia Hong grasped the underlying message in Yang Zhun's statement right away. A spark of thrill ignited in his gaze, followed by three vertical crimson cloud markings emerging on his forehead. Shaking away the lingering ache from the prior impact, a radiance enveloped his form, transforming into rainbow-like beams as he lunged once more at Yang Zhun.

Clap!

The instant the blood-red cloud pattern surfaced on Xia Hong's brow, Yang Zhun's demeanor grew gravely focused. He shifted from a one-handed grip on the spear to a two-handed hold, and as Xia Hong's saber slashed horizontally, he lifted his arms before smashing downward with the spear in a cleaving motion.

Yang Zhun's timing in combat rivaled Xia Hong's own. The downward chop of his spear connected exactly as the incoming blade swept across.

Boom!

The saber and spear collided with ferocious intensity, detonating in the air. Gigantic two-thousand-meter skeletal phantoms materialized behind them—one golden, one deep crimson—each grasping a saber and spear, smashing together with explosive force.

Rumble.....

Snowflakes across miles in the sky halted and liquefied in an instant. The ambient air currents funneled toward the point of weapon impact between the duo, generating a horrifying blast wave that erupted outward in every direction.

"Nineteen jin—no, even higher!"

Following this second confrontation, Yang Zhun's spear-wielding hands quivered intensely, and a hint of shock finally flickered in his eyes. He could no longer afford complacency; his skeletal essence burst forth abruptly, causing the thousand-meter skeletal shadow at his back to rapidly gain layers of muscle and vessels, rendering it far more tangible than Xia Hong's counterpart.

Bam...

At last, Yang Zhun unleashed his maximum effort. Clenching the long spear firmly, he whirled it with blinding speed. Cleave, smash, stab, thrust... at times resembling a silver serpent coiling, at others like a furious white dragon's howl, he abruptly wove a chilling barrier of spear edges around himself, impervious to intrusion.

"My innate power falls short of this Xia Hong's; this spells trouble!"

"Brother Yang, if that's your limit, then I'll happily claim the mantle of Nine Towns' foremost!"

Even without Yang Zhun voicing it, Xia Hong could discern his mounting distress from the deepening strain on his face.

"Just as anticipated, Yang Zhun had concealed some of his prowess—his actual might hovers near sixteen jin. Employing energy methods and weapon mastery, he can unleash close to twenty jin.

Such power remains insufficient against me!"

By late April, during his slaying of three Grandmasters sans martial techniques, Xia Hong's force had surged beyond nineteen jin.

Without attaining the Bone Tempering Critical Point in Xianyang Level, typically, one's core strength doesn't grow absent a cultivation advancement. Though Xia Hong practiced Muyin Town’s Twelve Blood Scripture Skills, which merely accelerated medicinal absorption, his baseline power had only edged up marginally to eleven jin presently.

Yet eleven jin sufficed amply!

"The five percent amplification from the Holy Pattern Bloodline, plus three percent via Transformation Realm Long Fist—these by themselves propel my power past nineteen jin. Merging the Transformation Realm Long Fist with martial techniques can further elevate the gain by two percent more!"

Gripping the Dragon Sparrow Saber, Xia Hong pressed his assault on Yang Zhun from lethal blind spots without respite. Any minor lapse in the spear's guard invited an immediate saber gleam to exploit it. Simultaneously, his left eye scanned keenly, vigilantly tracking Yang Zhun's form for the slightest flux of energy, which he sensed immediately.

"Lord Yang Zhun... is he... getting overwhelmed?"

"Impossible!"

"Hasn't Lord Yang Zhun stayed purely defensive?"

"Though Xia Hong's saber boasts impressive length, it pales against Lord Yang Zhun’s spear, doesn't it? With the longer weapon now defending, what more proof is required?"

"Lord Yang Zhun hasn't shifted his stance an inch; evidently, he's under pressure."

"Should anyone dare whisper falsehoods further, I'll flay them myself!"

"You..."

.............

The clash between Xia Hong and Yang Zhun unfolded merely over three hundred meters from the ground. At this height, even those in the Earth-digging Realm could observe with modest concentration, let alone the thousands upon thousands at Cold Resistance Level in South City.

Up in the skies now, Xia Hong wielded the Dragon Sparrow Saber to assail Yang Zhun relentlessly from blind angles, compelling Yang Zhun to hold his ground while frantically swinging his spear to deflect and counter. Now and then, the piercing whine of a saber cutting into flesh echoed. Victory hung in balance, but the prevailing sight clearly indicated who dominated.